Ferrucio
Kaides Estate Grounds - Servant's Gate@ERode
"...Very well, Young Master. Forgive us for overstepping." The second guard looked at his companion with a glance that said
are you sure about this?, but the first man shook his head silently as he pulled a lever within the inner wall. The gates creaked as the locking mechanism released, and the two guards pushed open the heavy doors.
Ferrucio was free.But, as he marched past them, once the young man was out of earshot the first guard looked at his partner again.
"Go to the Captain, about this time he ought to be inspecting the barracks." he said in a hushed, rushed tone. "If he thinks the kid needs a guard, he'll send someone. You could pick any of these noble brats out of a crowd like a smashed thumb, it won't be hard for them to catch up with him."
"B-but what if he fires us for letting him go in the first place?! Why not just stay put and keep our mouths shut?" The second guard wrung his hands together, and looked around nervously as if he expected someone already coming to scold them.
"Because getting
fired is better than getting
punished." came the reply. "There's always work for a man with a weapon these days, but if one of the Kaides women thinks we're responsible for her precious little rugrat getting mugged in a back alley, they'll order us flogged or stripped in the pillory or some crap. At least the captain will let us keep our dignity!"
The second seemed convinced by this argument. After a moment of biting his lip, he ran off to find the Captain of the House Guard.
Estelle, Isana, Ophelia, & Lady Crescence
Kaides Main House, Ground Floor - Common Dining Hall@Rune_Alchemist@SilverPaw@OwO
When Estelle began to laugh, Amibilia's face changed from one of consternation to one of utter confusion. Crescence's passive barb brought the red-headed woman's temper right back up to boiling, though---and yet, the merchant's daughter knew better than to openly respond to the provocation. The accusation on the second Wife's tongue, no matter how plausibly deniable, would put Amibilia on the back foot. Accusing someone of something was, in such an instance, a way to make that person divert their energies to defending themselves and losing track of the real point of their argument.
By contrast, Ophelia's commentary played no games. It had all the nuanced strategy of a bum-rushed battering ram at the front gates. The first wife's fan snapped shut---and then its wooden skeleton cracked in half between her lace-gloved hands as she snarled, her face turning the same shade as her hair.
"
Dear girl, whomever are you speaking to?
Crescence, I believe the poor darling is having another of her
fevers---you should hurry and put her to bed, before these delusions carry her away. Hearing seagulls, at the dining table--What a
vivid imagination!" She sniffed as she turned, skirts in hand, and stormed out of the room. Her voice's high pitch was further strained as she called down the halls. "Sherry! Sherry, my dear, where are you!?"
And thus, the three sisters and their mother were left to their breakfast, and the carriage ride afterward--no doubt having quite enjoyed their morning thus far.
On The Carriage Ride
Sherry
@Silver Carrot
His sister had only glared at him, and his outstretched hand, though he could tell gears were working in her head. He withdrew it---just as their mother came flouncing around the corner.
"Sherry! Don't you worry, my darling, those
little bitches won't bother you ever again if I have anything to say about it! Hurry, let's get your things, I'll tell Balbys---ah, no, nevermind him!" Amabilia seemed especially emotionally volatile this morning--perhaps justified, considering what both of her children had been through already. Their mother's face darkened at the mention of her former right-hand manservant. But, then she beamed as she took in Vincent's new look, and enveloped him in a hug from behind.
"Ah! Sherry, look at your baby brother! He picked his outfit out all by himself this morning! Although..." She pouted, her lower lip trembling. "Vincent, don't you think it's too warm for such heavy trousers? And all black? Wouldn't you rather---"
"Mother,
please." The exasperation in his voice was not that of a fourteen year old. He looked ridiculous, with his face surrounded by Amibilia's bosom and his arms crossed defiantly. "
No shortpants."
The carriage ride, thank ILA, was much quieter. Sherry hadn't said a word to him---but, then again, he wasn't wearing that ridiculous get-up this time. Now that he was experiencing it for the second time, he remembered that she
had spoken to him this morning---to tell him exactly how stupid and childish that white outfit with the cape had been. He remembered sniffling over it; little wonder he had shut it out until now.
But was the fact that he'd changed clothes really what had her so quiet this morning? Their mother had mentioned some kind of trouble with whom Vincent could only assume had to be their three half-sisters---they, or their mother, were two of the top three reasons Amibilia stayed pissed off. The third, of course, being Ferrucio most of the time. However, he didn't remember Sherry ever being on the losing end of any exchanges with Ophelia or her sisters---even Estelle, although that was less because of any skill in wordplay, and more because Estelle usually wasn't the type to punch under her weight class.
Big Sis Stella. I wish I'd gotten a chance to see her...but, was she awake yet? Or is she still in a coma? He closed his eyes as they trundled along.
Damn, does she leave this year?! Or is it next year? I wonder if I could stop her? But, even if I did... His arms and legs remained crossed. When his eyes opened, they fixated on the sights passing outside. But, clearly, his mind was racing about something...and every so often, his mouth worked its way into a tight line.
The Orientation
"I, Vincent Alexo Kaides, will undertake the Class Challenge!"
His hand had been the first up; he shouted at the top of his lungs, and was heard by almost everyone in the Great Arena. The faculty member who'd been selected to give the closing address looked across the crowd for a moment before finally locking eyes with him, and when the man did his mouth opened and closed in silence for a moment. After a moment, the instructor collected himself.
"...Whom do you name as your opponent, Vincent Kaides?" said the teacher, his voice amplified through a wooden cone.
"
Bennett Falcis." declared the boy. The student in question made a sound of disbelief, as every head in the rows around him turned to look at him. Bennett was two years Vincent's senior at 16, and was firmly in the middle of the Noble Class's rankings. He wasn't especially well-known, though he had all-around good grades academically and had well-balanced skills in just about every other category save (as was the norm in a Collegem focused on the knightly arts) magic. Until today, he had never even
met the youngest son of the Kaides house, though he was acquainted at least from across a classroom with most of the others.
But, Vincent thought to himself with an evil smirk.
What made you stand out to my dear cousins was your fanatical, blind-as-the-back-of-an-ass, loyalty. Especially to that bitch, Aqua. Because they had trusted him to carry out their orders without question and to rat on anyone else in their posse, Bennett was the "top lackey" among the twins' hanger-ons even if he wasn't the strongest or the smartest. Others like Michael Beckman were stronger and meaner, and those like Argenta Sylvester were more cunning and charismatic. Vincent wasn't as confident in his ability to beat those two, not with his current shrimpy body. But Bennett? A
goblin could beat Bennett, if they knew just where to hit him.
"Bennett Falcis, you are challenged for your class ranking by Vincent Kaides. Do you accept?" called the instructor. Though he seemed unsure as he looked from side to side, amidst the mutterings and some snickering from his classmates Bennett finally nodded. He stood, and seemed to grow more confident as he strode down the stairs.
After all, Vincent hadn't even started Collegem yet, and everyone knew the Patriarch's children had somehow fallen far,
far from their family tree. The youngest was said to be a crybaby, to have no talent at all even compared to his own siblings. Blaise and Aqua often talked about the Failed Generation among their cronies, laughing and poking fun at all of them behind their backs. And everyone knew Sherry, Vincent's older sister, was the biggest bitch on campus. Getting a chance to embarrass her little brother would be cathartic.
Vincent practically skipped on his way down to the arena, a wide smile plastered across his face. He immediately snatched a wooden imitation of an arming sword---it was almost like a bastard sword if one considered it proportionally to his height. Twirling it in one hand, he whistled as he mounted the arena while the faculty moved all their chairs far away from the center stage. Bennett chose a longsword, and started to reach for a shield...but, upon glancing back at Vincent, decided to forego it.
Should I tell him to go ahead? Fight me at full strength? Vincent spat over his left shoulder, barely missing his own sleeve---he wasn't used to that arm being there anymore.
Nah! Make another mistake, you bastard! They met, and Bennett bowed. Vincent did not.
"Welcome to Collegem, Young Master Vincent. If I may ask, why did you choose me for this challenge?" The bootlicker was all fake smiles and etiquette now, but Vincent well remembered the sadistic glee on that face whenever Bennett got the chance to pick on someone weaker than himself. He was so repressed, whether by family or by the expectations of his classmates, that he had always relished the chance to overindulge himself on students who couldn't fight back---whether against Bennett's own strength, or more often, against the numbers and the influence at his back.
"
Because I hate your fucking guts." Vincent said with a blank face, in the most monotone voice he could muster. As predicted, Bennett was flabbergasted. Before he could ask why Vincent felt that way, the instructor had approached them and raised one gloved hand.
"This Class Challenge has been accepted! The two of you have chosen your weapons. Are you ready?" He looked at both of them, and raised an eyebrow when as Vincent snapped to a perfect swordsman's salute while looking back at him with big, sparkling eyes.
"I'm weady, Mistah teacher!" announced the youngest Kaides, before finally returning Bennett's bow. "Pwease guide me, Mistah Bennett! I'm not vewy stwong yet, but I'ww do my best~!"
"H-huh? B-but you just said---" The instructor wrinkled his nose, and Bennett gulped. "Y-yes sir, I'm ready!"
"Take your stances!" The two did so. Bennett, as befitting his all-around average status, took a textbook-perfect Longpoint Guard from the Incarnate Will style's basics. Vincent, however, turned his body sideways in a "bladed" stance, with his arming sword held more like a rapier. These details weren't lost on the onlookers.
"What's with that stance?" "It's not wrong, but it's not Incarnate Will either---looks more like Geveil's fencing to me." "Why's he letting his left arm just hang limp like that, though?" "Is he mimicking someone else?""BEGIN!"
Vincent immediately lunged off the starting line, but not only did he aim a pinpoint thrust directly at Bennett's face, he also let out a sound that could only be described as a
screech. It sounded more like a yowling cat than a battle cry. Anyone might have been shocked by it---it was a classic "fake-out" tactic to distract an opponent. Most trained fighters, however, would have the reflexes to easily counter such a straight forward attack despite any momentary disruption to their thought process.
But Vincent's attack had begun long before the instructor's signal. His challenge, his threat, and his cutesy act had kept Bennett off balance this whole time, constantly shifting back and forth. Why was he being challenged by a child he didn't know? Wait, this child
hated him? What had he done to deserve that? Wait, what was Vincent trying to do in flipping a complete one-eighty in attitude like that? Obviously he was faking it, but
which attitude was the fake one? And now he was
screaming---
The point of Bennett's sword was slow as it CLACKED against Vincent's, displacing the thrust. There was a tenth of a second's hesitation in his counter stroke sliding down Vincent's blade, and the smaller boy was already spinning on the ball of one foot. His head lowered just enough that Bennett missed; Vincent's heel slammed into his gut just beneath his floating ribs.
There was too much weight difference between them to move him more than a step. As Vincent's foot returned to the ground Bennett's sword was already up and ready to come down---but instead of returning to a stable stance, the redheaded boy dipped low. He wasn't out of range of Bennett's double handed downstroke, but the extra distance gave him more time to get his own sword in position. Vincent's trailing right arm made a low arc before he launched his whole body upward, his shorter sword sailing through the space between them. The ascending cut got up right between Bennett's outstretched arms---reflexively, he pulled his face back and killed the momentum of his own blade! It barely nicked his wrist. However, it wasn't lost on the older boy that if these had been real blades, such a strike would've reduced him to a one-handed grip.
Vincent ducked away from the now neutered strike, and pressed his opponent with what seemed like a wild flurry of slashes. The way he moved was almost animalistic---and what began to clue the crowd in to the boy's true nature, was the unhinged
laughter boiling up out of him. Bennett's blade CLICKed and CLACKed as he hurried to block the strikes. Vincent's assault was serious---was this what the senior students and the instructors called killing intent? At first Bennett was off balance, and he had lost the pace. But as the fight went on, the difference between him and Vincent's physicality became more clear---he had reach, he had speed, and he had strength. Even moreso the latter, since Vincent was only holding his weapon with one arm. Bennett re-established his stance, and soon recovered his confidence. He narrowed his eyebrows as he finally halted Vincent's advance, easily blocking every strike without moving. He was used to the repeated motions now---it seemed like the young Kaides was only aiming for his head, as if he wanted a knockout blow.
Then Vincent feinted high, and Bennett steeled himself to block only for the younger boy to let his point fall aside. Having already set his weight, Bennett was frozen in space for an instant.
He saw the kick coming in painfully slow motion. The crowd's bugged out eyes followed Vincent's foot at the same speed. Meanwhile, in that same slowed time, Vincent's head shook side to side like a rabid dog as his tongue hung out of his mouth. The tip of Vincent's fancy shoe drove itself into Bennett's groin like a spring dandelion bursting through a concrete sidewalk.
A thud, and then a scream that rose high enough to shatter glass before cutting itself off. Bennett's knees shook as he took one stumbling step back, and then another. His eyes were bloodshot, and his sword trembled in his grip. But, you didn't get to the Noble class at the Kaides' Collegem Illustre without learning to take a little pain. He managed a hoarse gasp. He set his teeth, and with all the anger now fueling him he prepared to break his sword over Vincent's smarmy little skull---!
"You know Bennett," Vincent said---when had the boy gotten beside him!?---"Cousin Aqua says she
loves you a lot~!"
"Whu-huh?" Bennett blinked, a pink blush rising to his paling cheeks. Vincent slammed his wooden sword down on the back of the boy's neck. The noble-class fell knees-first to the hard tiles, his vision swimming as pain shot down his spine and his arms, all the way to the tips of his fingers. One hand let go of his sword, because he had to catch himself. Voice barely audible as nausea swam in his guts, he looked up pitifully at the youngest Kaides.
"I yie--GUHK!" The point of Vincent's sword rammed into his jaw, almost knocking out a few teeth. Bennett retched as it nearly scratched the back of his throat.
"Don't you fucking say it!" Vincent snarled, leaning close to the older boy. "I'm
enjoying this!" He withdrew his blade only to kick Bennett again, driving him down to his side upon the ground. The sixteen year old put his hands over his head and cowered as Vincent began to bludgeon him with the practice weapon, over and over and over again. Bennett cried out as he took a hit on his arms, but then he was struck in the floating ribs. When he tried to cover those up, Vincent laid into his back and shoulders. When he guarded that, Vincent stomped on one of his knees.
His growling continued, low enough for just Bennett to hear.
"Get UP! Put me in my place
now, you pathetic trash! Beg me for mercy! Scream for
those two to save you! They don't give a shit about you---no one does! No one
will! No one SHOULD!"
Vincent's sword was caught in mid-stroke. The next thing the boy knew, he was flying through the air---the teacher's hand was outstretched as he came between them. Vincent landed like a cat in a crouch, smiling mischievously even as the proctor eyed him with a narrowed gaze.
"STOP! This duel is over!" said the teacher, loud enough that even without the bullhorn the crowd could hear him. "Vincent Kaides is the victor! He shall be promoted to the Noble Class!" A cacophony broke out in the stands---some cheered, while others were less than plussed about this sudden surprise.
"He crotch kicked him!? Is that legal?!" "What was that? Can you even call that swordsmanship?" "I thought he was supposed to be some kind of crybaby?" "Dude, he got into the Noble Class on his first day! I think that's the fastest anyone has ever done it!" "Hahaha! That Falcis guy's a loser, he got his ass handed to him by a freshie!""HEEEEEEEEEY!"
The teacher, the crowd, and even the infirmary nurses gathering the catatonic Bennett onto a stretcher turned to see young Vincent standing with arms outstretched at the center of the arena.
"IF ANY OF YOU MISSED IT---MY NAME IS VINCENT, ALEXO, GOD-DAMNED
KAIDES!!!" He pointed towards the upraised center section of the stands, where all of his family, extended family, and servants were looking down at him. "And by midterms, I'll be back to bust up the
Elite class too! So all of you---!" he swept his arm around, turning a circle to get the entire crowd. "JUST WATCH ME!"
As the redhead now confidently stomped back towards his seat, the teacher who had refereed the duel certainly did keep an eye on the boy. He also glanced down at his hand---the one that had reached out to shove Vincent off of poor Bennett.
I never reached him. He had, to his own discredit, been too slow to stop the fight. Like many others, he had been stunned by both the skill and the sheer viciousness the youngest Kaides had displayed. But, once it had become apparent Vincent would gladly beat the other boy to death if allowed, the teacher had jumped up and moved towards him with all the swiftness he could muster short of activating his own Aura. When Vincent brought back the sword, he had reached out to grab it.
And at that moment, Vincent had looked over his left shoulder. It was a sidelong glance---the kind one might give a mosquito that had entered the corner of their eye. No more than a blink. Vincent had not been
pushed away by the teacher. He had jumped, like a cat that notices a snake at its feet. The proctor hadn't so much stopped the final blow, as just caught the sword before it fell.
He sensed me coming. No Aura, just sheer environmental awareness. The teacher clenched his fist.
I wonder what kind of training he's done, to become so sensitive to his surroundings at that age...Then, the other Kaides children began to raise their hands. More Challenges were called.
Watching the Others
Oh, you've definitely fucked things up now. Vincent thought to himself. The normally taciturn Rodin had called out a challenger, and it was Michael Beckman of all people. Had the half-elf been inspired by watching his youngest cousin take it to the bullies? Blaise and Aqua's henchmen had been building their reputations for the better part of two years now, after all. Maybe longer than that for some of them---sheer talent reigned over seniority within the Collegem, and as part of the Elite class the Twins even held sway over the upperclassmen in classes below their own.
Did I really hype everyone up that much? Hell yeah---they're ALL going to notice me this time!But, in the end, there was really only
one person he had to make notice him, wasn't there? One person whose respect could not be
earned. Vincent would claw it from the old man's hands this time. And then after he forced the words out of him...
Even Isana had challenged someone! Vincent was almost
certain she'd never taken the spotlight for herself like that! And, of all the strategies, spitting right in her opponent's mouth-- "Damn, wish I'd thought of that!"
And then...Ophelia, and his sister. For the first time, Vincent's guts rolled inside him. He felt a hot shame rising like bile in his throat.
Ophelia... For a moment, memories of the past---his
real past---flashed before his eyes. But at the same time, he was confused and irritated.
Why Sherry? I mean, she's a bitch, but why not someone else? Surely you could've gone after... And then, he realized it. No, it wasn't just that Olivia
could have gone after someone else---
Olivia shouldn't have been able to go after
anyone! Her body was even more pathetic than his own, and any kind of exertion always sent her into coughing and vomiting fits!
But now...
Hold the fucking show. He stood up in his seat as his full sister and half-sister dueled.
Those skills...Could Ophelia really do that, when we were in Collegem? His mouth gaped like a caught fish. Could it be? Was
that why everyone else had suddenly started calling challenges? He had already noticed a few other things not happening exactly according to memory, but...was it just because he was messing with the timeline? Or were the others...
He turned in a slow circle, looking at all his family members around him. Most of them were concerned with Ophelia and Sherry's duel, but a few of them met his eyes. Most of the servants seemed to see him in an entirely new light---but they were looking at him much the same way they used to look at Sherry. He was getting absolute murder-dagger glares from the Twins, and "Cousin Sylas" looked like a thundercloud had come to rest over the top half of his face. But, among all of them---
@OwO "Big Sis Stella!!!"
Vincent sprinted further up the stands, stretching his short legs as far as they'd go with each step. He saw her, still in the wheelchair, sitting next to the Second Lady--- "Big Sis Stella!"
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